His Princess
by effulgentcolors
Summary: There's a side of Emma Swan that only Killian Jones is privy to. Warning: disgisting amounts of fluff as per usual.


Emma thinks she has grown quite a bit. Nowadays when Mary-Margaret hugs her she relaxes into it immediately, soaks in her warmth and feels a small content smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She has a mom now, who worries about her being cold and eating enough and hugs her any chance she gets and _she has a mom_. And when David shows up at the station with coffee for the both of them, she takes it with a smile and thanks him and calls him 'dad' and _she has a dad now too_.

So, yeah, she thinks she has grown quite a bit. And even if she rarely _seeks _her parents' affection (because there's still that small voice in the back of her head, telling her not to be a bother, telling her to just take what they give her, to follow their lead) she certainly never hesitates about accepting it and relishing it and 'mom' and 'dad' roll off her lips more easily every day and it's _home_.

With Killian it's different. She has no idea what he bribed the little voice with but it never makes a peep when she's around him. It knows that somehow, no matter how stubborn or annoying she is being, Killian is never bothered, and he has already given her everything he has, everything he_ is_, and he has always let her lead, always given her the power.

And she's only a bit freaked out when she finds out that it's that voice in her head that has been putting a muzzle on her inner princess all her life. Without it? Well, only Killian knows what _that_ is like.

/

It starts rather early in the morning. As soon as her alarm goes off actually.

Emma had never been one to oversleep, not when her bed was only semi-warm and often not nearly comfortable enough to entice someone into rolling around among the sheets.

Now when the annoying sound assaults her ears she scrunches up nose, only burrowing deeper into Killian's side. She's warm and her muscles are still aching in the best way possible and he makes this happy little noise in the back of his throat, arm coming around her waist and pulling her half on top of him.

And she would have never pegged Killian as the responsible, 'get up as soon as the alarm goes off' type but then again she also wouldn't have pegged herself as the 'dating Captain freaking Hook' type a couple of years ago. It seems to her that there is still a bit too much lieutenant in him and a bit too much fairytale princess in her because he's the first to crack an eye open and sooner than she would have liked his voice pierces the stillness in the room.

"Rise and shine, Swan."

Depending on how sleepy she is Emma either whines or growls at him. She rubs her nose against his nipple and kisses the skin just above his ribs and when all she receives in a quiet laugh and a nudge and _another _prompting to get out of bed, she rolls away so that her back is to him (but still pressed firmly against his body because the need to sulk a bit is no reason to deprive herself of his warmth so early on).

"I don't wanna," she mumbles, head half-buried in her pillow, both voice and brain still tainted with sleep and making her sound rather pathetic but she's in the safety of her own bedroom and_ it's Killian_ and she really can't bring herself to care that early in the morning. "I'm comfy."

At that point she wiggles her butt against him and reaches behind her to draw his other arm around her and try to tempt him into at least fifteen minutes of spooning and _not getting up_.

Killian obliges (as always), slinging his handless arm around her and pulling her into his warm chest, but his teeth find her ear and tug on it in admonishment.

"Need to get up, princess."

She knows that she's acting like one when he calls her that and she couldn't care less.

"No," she states as if it is the way of the world and nothing can be done to persuade her otherwise. "I order you to throw that damn ringing thing out of the window and keep _the princess_ warm and happy for another half an hour."

She feels his laugh reverberate against her back and wants to scold him but is too busy holding back her smile.

"Ah, but you forget, your Highness, that I'm a dastardly pirate captain and take orders from no one."

She huffs in semi-genuine frustration and complete agreement. He is. And she loves it.

But she also has another trick up her sleeve. One that never fails.

Tilting her head back, she lets her hair spill over his shoulder and angles her head so that she can kiss the underside of his jaw, adding just the right amount of purring to her voice and letting just a hint of a pout grace her lips.

"Fifteen minutes?" she swears the eyelash flutter is beyond her control.

He gives her a look that tells her _he_ is awake enough to know exactly what she is doing but she is mellow and relaxed and did she mention warm?

He huffs and she makes another line on her 'Besting Killian' board.

"Five," he says with the deepest put-upon sigh she has ever heard and she cannot keep her grin down even if her life depended on it.

"Ten it is," she declares happily, twisting around, wrapping both her arms around him and letting her eyes fall shut once more with a little hum of contentment.

He gives her fifteen.

/

She honestly doesn't think it weird at all until they end up having breakfast with her parents one morning.

Ruby has barely set down her pancakes when Emma's eyes glue themselves to the plate of eggs and bacon in front of Killian.

Neal is babbling happily in his father's arms while David struggles to get his toast to his mouth and Snow watches him, amusement and lack of any desire to assist him written all over her face. Killian is equally engrossed in David's trial, smirking at the prince, a jab obviously on the tip of his tongue when Emma's hand darts out, stealing a piece of bacon literally from under his nose.

"Oi!" he exclaims because it's what they _do_.

They order. They eat. She decides that his is better than hers and proceeds to rectify that. He protests. Then gives in. What's the big deal?

"Pancakes are too sweet," she tells him matter-of-factly, waiting expectantly, and watches with a satisfied grin as he rolls his eyes and promptly switches their plates even though his is almost full and hers half-empty by now.

She's already half-way through the bacon when Killian's fork tries to win back some of his eggs and she slaps his hand away. It's only then that she becomes aware of the stares her parents are giving her.

"Wha'?" she asks, hand reaching up to cover her full mouth even as her cheeks take on a slightly darker shade.

Snow's smile is even more amused now but she ducks her head, unlike David who just stares at her a bit more.

"Come on, princess, you have to learn to share," comes Killian's teasing voice, breaking the tension tinged with silent laughter.

She shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth to shut him up.

/

She is cold. Ever since Elsa's vacation in Storybrooke ended she has been hot all the fucking time. So she took to going to work in only a t-shirt, leaving even her trusty leather jackets behind. And now autumn has come without notifying her and she is cold dammit!

"I'm cold," she sighs into her phone and tries to keep her five-year-old girl voice down.

It doesn't seems to work because David looks up from his own pile of boring paperwork and opens his mouth to say something when he notices that she's on the phone and promptly closes it.

She's glad. He only has a shirt on his back and she doesn't fancy leaving her father half-naked because of misplaced chivalry.

Plus, she's a big girl, she can handle it.

"What's that, lass?"

"I'm cooold."

Well, just because she _can_, doesn't mean she _has to_.

"I'm accepting a shipment right now, love. Give me an hour I'll bring you a free warm chocolate drink along with your jacket."

She doesn't think her pout is audible but she might be wrong because Killian sighs on the other end.

"45 minutes, princess. Must go now."

And with that he hangs up on her because apparently he takes his job way more seriously than she does.

She's sipping her cocoa and burrowing her hands in the leather of her red jacket half an hour later.

/

"Oh, Killian, come ON!" she crosses her arms in front of her chest, giving him a look that says she is not moving until he gives in.

"They are bad for you, Emma!" he fires right back, running his hand over his face, clearly frustrated. "More than half of the rubbish those supermarkers of yours sell is bad for you."

"Supermarkets," she corrects him automatically and cringes when he only glares harder at her.

When she showed her boyfriend the _magic of the internet_ she quite honestly expected him to download all the pirate ship wallpapers out there, start frequenting sites that Henry better not have access to or even get addicted to Angry Birds.

She did not expect him to start researching the food in her realm. There is a reason for the existence of 'the sausage principle'. As grateful as she is to him for making Henry eat healthier, things are going too far. She doesn't need him to tell her what she can and cannot eat. She is not a kid!

Despite all the evidence that can be found in support of that claim.

"Markets are supposed to be outside," he grumbles. "And have fresh food that doesn't shine unnaturally under those horrible lightening devices they insist on using in these places."

His shoulders are tense and she knows that he's actually really anxious about the quality of the food they eat. And as annoying as he can be about it (_she_ is just glad they always have food in the fridge) it's kind of sweet and endearing how much it worries him that they have been 'consummating processed and _genetically modified_ crap' for years. So she takes pity on him and moves forward, pushing their cart, full of vegetables and oatmeal and _organic everything_, away and putting her arms around him.

"I know some of this stuff is pure crap," she says and ignores his snort of agreement. "But you can't obsess over every single thing that the yogurt contains. It will drive you crazy. It's already driving _me _crazy!"

She feels him relax a little under her hands, which are running up and down his back.

"And we don't eat junk food every day. Once a week is ok. Trust me!" she adds at his skeptical look. "You can't have movie night without popcorn. Henry is gonna disown you."

She might disown him too if he throws away one more tub of her favourite ice-cream.

"It's not like I'm making you buy Coca-Cola!"

He blanches just at the mention of the drink and Emma quickly moves her arms around his neck and pulls him closer. She nips at his bottom lip, rubbing her nose with his and giving him her best 'you can never say no to me' smile.

Killian's tortured sigh is just the sort of agreement she expects.

"Fine. You can have your popcorn, princess," he says, accompanying the endearment with a light slap to her backside, making her jump in surprise. "But I'm not buying any lollipops at the check-out."

She begs three lollipops from him and readily promises that he can spank her for it later.

/

"Killian!"

He sets down his copy of 'Robinson Crusoe' and follows Emma's voice into the kitchen.

"What's wrong, lass?"

She whirls around to face him, face flushed and… she's covered in a white powdery substance that he's pretty sure is supposed to be used for cooking not… showering one's self.

"I see," he mutters trying to hide his laugh behind both a cough and his fist. Rather unsuccessfully if her glare is anything to go by.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" she stalks toward him. "You think this is fucking funny?!"

He tries. He swears he does. But she's standing in front of him, eyes flashing, breasts heaving, a pink tinge high on her cheeks and flour sticking to her eyelashes and in her hair and he just cracks. Hand coming around his stomach to hold himself together, he just lets go and laughs. Laughs like he hasn't laughed in all of his 300+ years. He braces himself on the counter, trying to get his breathing under control and failing again and again.

"Idiot" he hears her mutter but her voice is rich with affection and as he looks up at her, his laughter only escalates, tears stinging his eyes by now and spilling over his cheeks.

"Are you done?" she says, arms crossed in front of her chest, doing her damnest to fight the smile tugging her lips upwards.

"Oh, love, this bloody hurts," he says with a tired chuckle, holding his stomach.

"Well, it's your own damn fault," she says and he doesn't have to look at her to know she is pouting like a kid that's been told to eat her broccoli or she will get no desert.

"Me?" he says and his eyes light up in a way that tells her exactly how pleased he is with himself for what he knows not.

"Yes, _you_!" she grumbles but she is still warm all over from_ his_ laughter and knows she can forgive him anything right now. "You keep putting the cinnamon on the top shelf and I can never reach it."

Emma is not a short woman and the very top shelf is just barely out of her reach so sometimes he forgets that he's not actually supposed to use it. Especially not for the cinnamon.

"So you…" he waves his hand in the general direction of her flour-covered self, his eyes shining and _he is not going to laugh again_.

"I almost had it!" she says, the tiniest trace of a whine slipping into her voice and she actually, literally, for real, stomps her foot.

He loses it again.

"Killian!" her voice is all squeaky and offended and he is beyond saving.

Suddenly she stalks toward him. At first he thinks she is going to punch him and then he hopes she just might kiss him.

She kicks him in the shin.

"Bloody hell, woman!"

He knows if he still had a ponytail she would have pulled it.

"Give me back my cinnamon, you jackass!"

He glares down at her but she's still a mess and he's hard pressed to keep his mirth under control so he hops over to the shelf and retrieves the precious ingredient. He puts it on the counter with a little thud, giving her a 'see? It's not that damn hard' look.

She just narrows her eyes at him before turning on her heel and starting towards the bathroom. She has barely made three steps when she stops, looking at him over her shoulder.

"Killian!" her eyes are wide and her voice indignant, sounding for all the world as if he had just lifted up her skirt in the middle of Granny's. "Get a move on, would you? This is your fault. I'm not gonna be the one cleaning up your messes."

And with that a floury top hits him straight in the face, sliding down and giving him a view of her naked back as she continues on her way towards the shower.

"As the princess wishes," he nearly purrs and reaches her in four long strides, scooping her into his arms and receiving the anticipated squeal and slap upside the head.

Oh, he is never putting the cinnamon on the lower shelf again.

/

Her very bones ache. She swears she has never been this exhausted in her life. The whole Savior gig? Nothing compared to babysitting.

"Hey, mom," Henry trudges in, Killian right behind him.

They look almost as exhausted as she feels. Almost.

Henry leans over the couch to give her a kiss which turns into more of a yawn against her cheek. She chuckles tiredly.

"Fun day?"

"Oh, yeah," Henry sighs, his eyes shining despite the sleepiness that clings to him and Emma gives Killian an impressed smile over the kid's shoulder. "I'm gonna take a shower and go sleep for a week."

"Uh-ah," she stops him with a look. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, yes," Henry waves her off, continuing on the way to his room. "Killian brought enough food for a whole crew."

"Well, I did have a crew to feed," replies the pirate defensively.

"Sure you did. But between the two of us and grandpa we had enough food for a week."

The pirate huffs but doesn't deny it, earning himself one of the boy's victorious grins.

"Night, Killian. Night, mom."

Before Henry's door is even shut Killian is moving towards her and dropping on the floor in front of the couch with a heavy sigh. His head comes to rest on her knees while his hand rubs at her ankle.

"How was your day, love?"

"Tiring," she admits but a soft smile takes over her face. "But fun. I think baby Neal will say his first word soon."

"Bloody hell!" exclaims Killian. "Just don't let him do it while Dave and Henry are on my boat. Took me long enough to charm my way into your father's good graces."

"Oh, shut up!" she laughs a little, her hand coming down to stroke through his hair. "If it was up to him, Neal will say his first words _on_ that stupid boat."

"Oi!" his hand tightens around her ankle and tugs a little. "You gave me that stupid boat, Swan!"

"Well, that was before I knew you'd love it more than me now, wasn't it?" she pouts down at him.

"Don't be daft!" he exclaims somewhat indignantly.

"I-" she's interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Alright, it's off to bed for you, lass," he says with a grin, getting to his feet and popping his neck.

Emma lifts her arms towards Killian in a perfect imitation of what baby Neal had been doing to her all day. The pirate just chuckles, a heart-warming combination of amusement and adoration lighting up his whole face.

"Come on," he grins, putting his arms around her. "Up you go, princess."

Emma readily wraps her own arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he lifts her off the couch and starts towards their bedroom.

"Mm," her smile is contentment itself as she nuzzles her face into his neck, inhaling the smell of a day on the water and _Killian_. "I'm your princess."

He smiles at her voice, somehow smug and childish at the same time. She is already more asleep than not and he loves her so damn much.

"That you are, Swan. That you are."


End file.
